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pulled out my pocket-handkerchief and wiped my eyes.
Mr. Peggotty (who never shut his mouth once, I remem-
ber, during the visit) showed great concern when he saw me
do this, and nudged Ham to say something.
‘Cheer up, Mas’r Davy bor’!’ said Ham, in his simpering
way. ‘Why, how you have growed!’
‘Am I grown?’ I said, drying my eyes. I was not crying at
anything in particular that I know of; but somehow it made
me cry, to see old friends.
‘Growed, Mas’r Davy bor’? Ain’t he growed!’ said Ham.
‘Ain’t he growed!’ said Mr. Peggotty.
They made me laugh again by laughing at each other, and
then we all three laughed until I was in danger of crying
again.
‘Do you know how mama is, Mr. Peggotty?’ I said. ‘And
how my dear, dear, old Peggotty is?’
‘Oncommon,’ said Mr. Peggotty.
‘And little Em’ly, and Mrs. Gummidge?’
‘On - common,’ said Mr. Peggotty.
There was a silence. Mr. Peggotty, to relieve it, took two
prodigious lobsters, and an enormous crab, and a large can-
vas bag of shrimps, out of his pockets, and piled them up in
Ham’s arms.
‘You see,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘knowing as you was partial
to a little relish with your wittles when you was along with
us, we took the liberty. The old Mawther biled ‘em, she did.
Mrs. Gummidge biled ‘em. Yes,’ said Mr. Peggotty, slowly,
who I thought appeared to stick to the subject on account of
having no other subject ready, ‘Mrs. Gummidge, I do assure